


Growth

by LenoirWhittlethorn



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoirWhittlethorn/pseuds/LenoirWhittlethorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the "Here Lies the Abyss" quest, where Hawke has some free time to explore Skyhold. She enters a room where a man from her past is hunched over some documents. He's changed so much, how could she recognize him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growth

Skyhold was a magnificent fortress and Ophelia Hawke didn’t mind getting lost in the structure. She admired how the bright orange leaves contrasted against the snowy mountain backdrop and a small desire to live there came on. After passing a circular room that belonged to a mage named Solas, the desire faltered into nothing. Memories of Anders seeped in, causing her brows to furrow as she opened a door that led outside.

 

She took a deep breath of mountain air and exhaled slowly. What happened, happened, there wasn’t anything she could do. At least that’s what she learned to tell herself. Right now, she was going to enjoy her walk as she waited for the Inquisitor to come back. There was only one door in front of her now and without hesitation, Ophelia swung open the door.

 

There was a man hunched over papers on his desk, which reminded Ophelia of Aveline. When he looked up, he gaped in surprise and straightened up. “Hawke? You’re already here? Why wasn’t I informed of this?” The man muttered and scratched the back of his head.

 

Ophelia walked in, trying to remember who this man was to her. All she could think of was how handsome he looked. “Have we met before or am I really that famous?” She smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Hawke, I can never tell when you’re being coy or serious.” The blonde man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m Cullen, remember?”

 

“No,” Ophelia leaned on the desk and gawked at the commander. “By the Maker, it is you!” She stepped back and let her eyes wander all over. “Forgive me, it’s just you changed a lot. New armor, no more noodle hair, and those forsaken eye bags.” She chuckled.

 

“Noodle hair?” Cullen groaned. “Well thank you, I think.”

 

“Seriously, you look good, Cullen.” Ophelia said gently.

 

“Varric didn’t tell you that I was here?” Cullen rested his hands on the hilt of his sword.

 

“He kept saying ‘Curly’ in his letters and I never bothered questioning who that was.” Ophelia put her hands on her hips. “Now a lot of what he said made sense.”

Cullen snorted softly. “Do I want to know?”

 

Ophelia smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Nothing scandalous, just your hair and the whole not being paranoid out of your wits in regards to mages. Oh and being alive, both of us were shocked by that.” She listened to Cullen’s chuckle, enjoying the sound. “Commander Cullen of the Inquisition.”

 

It was interesting how a while ago, the Champion would often stop by just to harass Cullen in Kirkwall and yet here she was gawking in amazement. But he knew that Hawke had changed after the mage rebellion, in appearance and in attitude.

 

He would never say it out loud, especially to Hawke,  but he noticed she lost weight, just by seeing her face. She had a scar over her right eye and when she was younger, she wore bright makeup, but now it was all black. Her eyes somehow grew brighter, but they didn’t hold the fury they used to. Instead, there was experience and quiet compassion. And she had cut off her long, black hair, though it didn’t make her any less attractive.

 

Realizing that he had been silent for some time, Cullen thought of a question for Hawke. “So, uh, how is your sister?” When the words left his lips, Cullen immediately regretted them.

 

Old Hawke would’ve exploded with anger or made a vicious remark and Cullen would’ve preferred those. Hawke visibly flinched at the question and she held herself while looking at the ground. “We...haven’t written each other for a long time.” She answered softly. “Varric and Fenris are the only ones I keep in constant contact with.”

 

“Oh, I’m,” Cullen thought back to all those years ago, when he came to take Hawke’s sister away. “I’m so sorry.” He said solemnly.

 

Ophelia held up a hand and shook her head. “Don’t feel guilty about it. My family,” She sighed shakily. “My family and my choices.”

 

“If it’s any consolation, I believe you’ll find each other again. You are a good older sister.” Cullen reassured.

 

The hardened rogue scoffed and was about to say something, but someone entered the room.

“Cullen, I was wondering if you had some time—” Selena Lavellan walked in, unaware of Hawke until she nearly bumped into her. “—Excuse me, I didn’t expect—”

 

Ophelia smirked after glancing at the Inquisitor and the Commander. “I was just leaving, Inquisitor, but we’ll talk later.” She patted Selena’s shoulder as she passed by. “Don’t keep him awake all night, don’t want those monstrous eye bags making a comeback.” She winked and exited the room, pleased to hear Cullen sputtering behind her.

 

A frigid breeze wafted through and Ophelia shut her eyes. She could hear refugees muttering small talk and there was the occasional neigh from the horses in the stable. Everything felt so fresh and she opened her eyes. The perfect ground for new growth, but death had to happen first. The death of Corypheus.

 

On that line of thought, Ophelia decided to find her dearest friend. If she remembered where to turn.

  
  



End file.
